Antaro had gone out to find out from the guards in the hall what had gone on, and why Jase-aiji’s guards were in armor.
“They caught the intruders last night, nandi,” Antaro came back to report, after far too long. “We were told the emergency was over—that we should all go to bed. They maintain the emergency is still over. They have no idea why the ship-folk are in armor.”
“Everyone,” he said. “Clothes. Taro-ji, call and find out what is going on.”
“We cannot, nandi,” Lucasi said. “We are getting a short-range red. That means no communication at all. Shall I go downstairs to find out?”
“Go,” Cajeiri said. Eisi was up and dressed. Lieidi was nowhere in sight yet. “We need our clothes, Eisi-ji,” he said. “Quickly. Never mind baths. We may have to go down to breakfast to learn anything. Luca-ji, find out, while you are down there, if there isformal breakfast.”
• • •
The bus was not proceeding at any breakneck speed—far from it. And there was no space in the aisle at the rear—the dowager’s young men had sat down on the floor back there, rifles and gear with them, ready, and out of view of any observers.
“Nawari’s units have already moved,” Banichi leaned close to say. “We are pacing them on a timetable. That is why we are not up to speed.”
“Yes,” he said, acknowledging that, and relayed it in ship-speak to be sure Jase understood. “Nawari’s group is afoot. We are keeping pace with their movement. We’ll get there just before them—we know this distance, absolutely. Now we just go over and wish the Kadagidi good morning and see how mannerly they are. Unfortunately—I don’t think we’ll get a good answer.”
He watched the countryside roll past the windows. They’d made the turn onto the main local market road, such as it was, a long low track in a land of scrub and weeds. The road, parallel to the railroad tracks, connected the Kadagidi and the Atageini, and the desolate, unmown condition of the road said worlds about relations between the two clans. The only legitimate traffic between Kadagidi and Atageini territory all year had likely been railway maintenance vehicles.
Before that—before that, for two years, as Murini ruled the aishidi’tat, likely there had been very frequent patrols down this route, Kadagidi keeping an eye on the Atageini, in Murini’s name.
Change of fortunes, decidedly.
• • •
Breakfast was downstairs, and they were told to come down at their leisure. Great-grandmother and Great-uncle were already in the little dining room—Cajeiri knew that immediately by Casimi, one of mani’s secondary guards, being outside the door, along with Great-uncle’s senior bodyguard. And there was no room for four more in that room.
Casimi, however had seen them, and signaled them, so Cajeiri came and brought his little group—his guests, and his bodyguard—with him.
“One expected you might sleep late, young gentleman,” Casimi said.
“Jase-aiji’s guards were in the hall in armor. And where is nand’ Bren, nadi?” Nand’ Bren’s guard was nowhere in evidence in the hall, nor was Jase’s, and things seemed more and more out of the routine.
“Jase-aiji and nand’ Bren have gone to call on Lord Tatiseigi’s neighbors,” Casimi said.
“Kadagidi!”
“Exactly so, young gentleman. One requests you please do not alarm your guests. Your breakfasts this morning will be in the formal dining room. One is also requested to inform you that Lord Tatiseigi has planned a tour through his collections this morning after breakfast, at your convenience.”
Please do not alarm your guests.
And nand’ Bren and Jase-aiji had gone over to talk to the Kadagidi, after what had happened last night. That was about the most dangerous thing he could think of.
“What happenedlast night, nadi? We know about the intruders. We understand you caught them. Were they Kadagidi?”
“Dojisigi, nandi, but they had come here with the help of the Kadagidi.”
“Assassins’ Guild?” He was already sure of it. “After Great-grandmother?”
“Their target was your great-uncle, young gentleman. They claim to have had no idea your great-uncle would arrive with guests. They have apologized and stated they wish to change sides. So do not trouble yourself about that business, young gentleman: they are under this roof, but under watch. Be sure they are under watch. One understands you were able to recover the parid’ja last night.”
“Yes, nadi. He came back to the window when all that happened. But—”
“Kindly be very careful to observe house security today. We are strong enough to repel any problem—granted our young guests stay inside and with you. For your Great-grandmother’s sake—please be sure of their whereabouts at all times today.”
Casimi and his partners were such sticks.
“Yes, nadi,” Cajeiri said with a polite nod.
“Hear me, young gentleman: should you lose track of anyone, do not try to find the missing persons. Notify us and let us deal with the matter. We had two Marid Assassins living in the house garage when we arrived, and while we do not believe there are any other surprises in the house—consider any untoward occurrence a matter for us to know, immediately. Please assure me you understand this.”
In the garage.They had imagined intruders living in the basement . . . where Great-uncle was proposing to send them today, to tour the collections.
Casimi was a stick, and Casimi probably had never forgiven him for the tricks he had played on him, getting away right past Casimi’s nose: Casimi probably thought he was a thorough brat, too; maybe even that he could be a fool.
Which was unfair. He had been monthsyounger.
“Please do not share much of this with your guests, young gentleman. They should have a happy visit. And touring the collections will put you in a very safe part of the house today.”
“One thought we were worried about Assassins in the basement, nadi.”
“The basement has been searched very thoroughly, young gentleman. So has every room and closet in the house.”
What about the garage? he wanted to ask pointedly—but it being Casimi, who already had a bad opinion of him, he decided just to do as he was told.
“The formal dining room,” he said. “Thank you, nadi, nadiin.”
So there was nothing for it but to do as Casimi told them to do. He gave a second little bow, said, “Please tell my great-grandmother and uncle that we are very glad they are safe, nadi,” and to his guests:
“Breakfast is in the big room. We can say more there.”
• • •
Not that long a drive—and they were still in no great hurry about it—it was a leisurely cruise down the road. The sun was up, now, gilding the tops of dry weeds and the branches of leafing scrub. On any ordinary day, at this hour, he’d be having toast and tea and going over his mail. Right now his heart kept its own time, dreading the encounter and wishing they’d get there faster.
The bus nosed gently downward, the slope of the other side of the hill, and ran at just a little greater speed, breaking down weeds and small brush.
“Polano says there’s a structure on a hill, on the horizon,” Jase said quietly. Jase’s bodyguards had an unobstructed view out the windshield. They didn’t.
“That would be,” Bren said, “the Kadagidi manor house. Asien’dalun.”
He wished he could see the place. He urgently wished he could see what was going on, or whether there was any sign of trouble. But not seeing ahead of them was part of their protection—and he wasn’t about to get up and take a look.
Once they reached the estate, Guild protocols shouldswing into operation, but there was no guarantee they wouldn’t be met by mortar fire.
Lord Aseida, at this hour, would be having breakfast, or answering his mail, and the lord might continue at that, while his security asked, officially, using Guild short-range communications, who was arriving. When they did arrive, the house would open the door and the major d’ would come out, with his assistant, wanting to know officially and formally, for the civilian staff, who was arriving . . . this was a matter of form, the form having been devised long before radio.